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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350312">A Double Edged Sword</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatPeskyAloe/pseuds/ThatPeskyAloe'>ThatPeskyAloe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonding, Feelings, Flowers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Horses, M/M, Purple Prose, Singing, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Travel, not that shippy honestly but I wrote it with the pairing in mind so take that as you will, this is pretty much just</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:43:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatPeskyAloe/pseuds/ThatPeskyAloe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Travelling with jaskier is, to be frank, a pain in the ass most of the time. It does, however, have its perks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Double Edged Sword</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Travelling with the bard had it's perks. <br/><br/>As with almost anything it also had many, many pitfalls. Geralt had come to expect this of everything and Jaskier was no exception. His inability to simply stop talking was one major thing that irritated him- it seemed like every time there was a moment of silence and he wasn't being actively shushed he would be talking or singing or humming a shapeless tune (this wouldn't annoy him so much if he could simply just be consistent in whatever he was humming). He would sing about anything given the opportunity and half a moment to come up with a few rhymes. Even just almost slipping crossing a brook seemed to drag out a few lines, though quite often the panicked ditties he came out with in those moments of mild peril were fairly amusing. <br/><br/>But somehow this sometimes became a perk. There was a certain loneliness that a vast empty plain at night or a deep, dark forest draw out even from Geralt, a creature of solitude. The kind of dead place where not even a bird whistled back had a way to creep into the bones and make someone wish for company- and that was where Jaskier came in. Every time the darkness around them seemed to close in he'd come out with something, if only an "ooh, it's spooky here!" that would hold it at bay until they would a place to settle and light a fire that would do that job. That wouldn't stop him from singing until something was thrown at him, though. <br/><br/>He'd taken to throwing a pillow at him rather than other, pointier objects these days. <br/><br/>He'd also found that he needed to share Roach. It seemed that Jaskier just seemed to have a natural talent for making horses hate his guts and he would be in significant danger using one to traverse any remotely difficult terriain- more so from the horse than any hazard. Even if the noises he made when being nearly bucked off were beyond amusing, he couldn't very well let him be injured if he was so insistent on travelling along with him. So when he began to complain of tiredness or was slowing the travels down Geralt would unceremoniously haul him onto the back of the horse, usually unheeding of some indignant cry of protest. <br/><br/>It wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be, though. He tended to quiet down once close behind him, probably aware of the fact he could be pushed off very easily, and the silence or more quiet conversation was more enjoyable. If he would go so far as to use a word so strong as enjoyable. Sometimes he would fall asleep and Geralt would have a while to appreciate some silence with his back covered. He'd tell himself that having his back protected was the main reason he even allowed this, but would relent that having a warmth at his back in cold weather wasn't the worst thing in the world. <br/><br/>Jaskier was also always getting distracted. He'd always claim he just needed to go look at something insignificant for inspiration or god forbid just because it looked neat. He count probably add extra hours onto their journey times overall just from Jaskiers exploits as he hopped off the path to go take a closer look at something. The worst part was that he then had to follow hi off the path to make sure he didn't get himself killed as his exclamations of "hey, look at that!" didn't give him a lot of information on what exactly he was looking at when he merrily dove off the path. More than once he'd had to kill whatever had caused the movement that caught his eye or stop him from touching something harmful. <br/><br/>This however did translate into him in turn taking an interest in smaller things that he may have skimmed over otherwise. A tree gnarled into a hand-like form, perhaps a cloud in the shape of something less than appropriate. He could quite clearly remember losing hours in a flower field that he normally would have just walked straight through as Jaskier didn't want to leave, finding the whole place simply too charming to just gloss over. As he sat on a stone, watching Jaskier run around like an idiot and taking in the scene that seemed ridiculous, he found that he quietly admitted to himself that it had some degree of charm. <br/><br/>He found flowers in his bags, his hair and everything else for what seemed like weeks after. <br/><br/>He truly did hate travelling with the bard sometimes, having to deal with his constant shenanigans and having to fish him out of one dangerous situation after another. He barely tolerated his singing most days, and largely found that his constant talking grated on his nerves. But he needed to admit sometimes that his company wasn't so bad, that he quite liked the thankful look he got when saving him for the millionth time, that his chatter and song made travelling less dull than on his lonesome. <br/><br/>Jaskier was an idiot, but he was <em>his</em> idiot- and when he though about it, he was quite the fool himself. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Watching the show I never really thought it'd be the sort of thing that I would write for, yet here we are. This is purple prose and we all know it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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